Some males, like myself, live in a world of unmarried contentedness. We eat, sleep, and defecate as we please, with little to no regard for the opinions of others. We live to please our wretched excesses, watch the Simpsons, and eat Pop-Tarts. This is the intended condition of man.
There are some who choose to leave our ranks and cross the line into marriage. They are unaware that their sweet, wholesome fiances will be transformed into a fire-breathing Nagzilla whose accursed commands will incessantly pour forth like some beating drum of the damned.
When men chose to traverse this course in life, they must first be punished by their friends.
My friend Tim got married last year, and we made him eat some nasty SPAM. This was a gruesome, unnecessary exercise that managed to get the message across to him. Now, my old bunk-mate Karl is getting married in a week or so, and this weekend was his turn.
A few folks (including Tim) went to the grocery store and purchased a package of the most disgusting-looking meat they had ever seen in their life. It was called “maw”:
When we slapped the wrinkly flesh onto the grill, it’s sizzling gave off a pungent aroma that was less-than-appetizing. We poured some BBQ sauce on it to fix that, and Karl’s once-sunny demeanor began to sour as he reflected on what he was about to consume. After a bit, the maw began to inflate distressingly, and a quick bit of online research revealed that maw is hog stomach. Perfect! When we flipped over the maw, stomach juices poured out of it and were licked up by the flames.
When Karl was finally forced to bite into it, he spent about a minute chewing on one bite. He reported that it had the consistancy of a fatty tendon. We commanded him to swallow and eat another bite. The maw had the characteristics of a deflated football bladder – it’s elasticity was sickening to the eye. To Karl’s credit, he gave it an honest try, but couldn’t eat more than a bite or two before we called it off.
Someday, maybe years from now, when Karl is married and his soul has long since been deadened to the pleasures of this world, Karl will look back fondly on the maw. Yes, he will long to return to the maw, perhaps even calling out to the maw in his sleep. Though it will now be too late, Karl will cry out in sorrow and hope for one last bite of its rubbery, stomachy goodness.